The League Gets Plastered
by Kyer
Summary: NO ALCOHOL! Mild PG-13! I SWEAR! Mixed Worlds. Companion to Worrywart xover NightWing&Flash, but can be read on it's own. Flash, Kyle, Dick, Batman, Superman, Aquaman, J'onn. Things get sticky at the League thanks to Flash's concern for friends health.
1. Licensed Plasters

A/N: No, it's not what you think!

Companion piece to my Nightwing/Flash crossover ficlet also found at FanfictionNet: Worrywart. I was going to continue this there, but realized it had morphed into a Justice League fic halfway through. Besides, this one is much more cracky...

PG-13 level cleanliness. No alcohol, but some intimated violence both past and future; and if you see any slashy hallucinations in this, it's purely a result of the alcohol that does not exist.

* * *

The League Gets Plastered

"I can't believe you actually used your logos on him," snickered Wally's guest: a brunette man who was currently sitting _(read: sprawled )_ upon one end of the speedster's couch.

Kyle Rayner (a part-time graphic artist, once-upon-a-time League member, and currently still attached to the Green Lantern Corps by way of a fancy piece of finger jewelry) was referring to his hyper-metabolized friend's recently having aided Dick Grayson (Nightwing) during a tense and suspenseful moment when Wally had thought his long-time fellow ex-Teen Titan was in danger of expiring and thus in need of some TLC...

which resulted in Dick's being plastered with licensed The Flash (R)...um...plasters.

(Otherwise known as band aids or Casual Cut Covers.)

Wally shot his second-best friend an annoyed look while handing the man a lemon-lime soda,. He adopted a Yoda accent to mock acidly reply: "It was a matter of life or death; besides, other plasters I had none. Ungrateful Human with Lantern Green screen print on chest, with permission _not,_ took most entire stock of."

"Er...yeah, well," waving his hand in a 'what can you do?' gesture, Kyle looked out the window as he sipped his drink as if hoping that some bad guy would choose that moment to make an appearance and render this conversation moot. Unfortunately, there was never a crisis around when you wanted one. "...it was an emergency situation," he hedged. "The unavoidable kind."

"Uh huh, so you told me." Wally's voice switched to a whiny mockery of Rayner's own voice. "_Even Kyle Rayner can get the odd boo boo while fighting with the Sinestro Corps_."

His guest scowled rather petulantly. "That's right-rub it in. Like Hal Jordan and John Stewart never get hurt while working sector 2814?"

"Of course they do," Wally plopped onto the other end of the couch copying Kyle's indolent sprawl like a pro. The red head contemplated the slowly descending condensation on his drink's container as if using the rate of its fall as a liquid metronome for his speech. "They just don't raid a buddy's apartment for his best plasters after every fight-especially the most dazzlingly cool ones." He shrugged and corrected this with "Well, the most _non-incriminatory_ dazzlingly cool ones."

"Phfft-like wearing band-aids with your own logo on them will somehow give away your secret identity." An emerald light jumped from The Green Lantern ring to form puffy neon lights that spelled out _"The FLASH! Right Here!"_ complete with a pulsing arrow pointing down at Wally's chest region...which was now sporting an emerald-colored, huge, Flash band-aid. Wally countered by creating a small cyclone with one hand meant to blow the green emanation of Will Power back into Rayner's face as if it were mere smoke. (It didn't work like that, but Kyle cut the power nevertheless in order not to suffer from windburn.)

"I'm told by a _reliable expert_ that you can never be too careful with a secret identity. I mean, just _try_ offering our Dark Knight a Batman plaster for a paper cut and see where said plaster actually ends up being stuck." Wally shuddered. "Take my word for it..._not_ pretty."

Kyle did consider that scenario-and could not suppress his own shudder in empathy. Batman did not put up with friendship activities unless your name was Robin or Alfred.

"Okay, point made. Jeez...I only used the six Fighting Yoda ones and the Millennium Falcon. The way you carry on you'd think I'd raided your Candy Fund Jar and used dollar bills instead."

The speedster was aghast. He pointed an accusing finger at his possibly-to-be-ex-friend. "_You're_ the one who used _the_ Millennium Falcon XXL plaster? Dude, I was saving that one for a special occasion!"

"Hey, it was a special occasion!" Kyle huffed before mumbling, "That last odd and very XXL boo boo was from my date when she found out I wasn't actually the vaunted Hal Jordan."

A bit mollified (nothing granted another clemency like confessed humiliation), Wally smirked knowingly with an added touch of a waggle of his eyebrows. "Well, you know, man, I've met Hal Jordon...and you are no Hal-"

"Stuff it already!" (Kyle threw his empty can at the speedster; who predictably enough caught it in mid air.) "You have no idea how sick I am of hearing about how I don't measure up to Jordon." He sighed because there was just no way he'd get the speedster to stop bringing this up unless he capitulated. "Okay...I'll pay you back for the blasted plasters." (Really, if anyone should be showing him some sympathy here over living in the shadow of a renowned predecessor then by rights it should be _the third Flash_.)

"You realize that reply was Hal Jordan's trademarked schtick," Wally slyly jabbed in, referring to Hal Jordon's well known habit of incurring debt, making I.O.U's, and never getting around to making good on them. "Can't you think of something more..._original_?"

"Oh, shut up!" Kyle's expression grew contemplative, his own lipds curving into a smile. "Wait...I'm told that's something of an impossibility for The Fastest _Mouth_ Alive."

His host raised an eyebrow.

* * *

-Wally Flashback-

"Ow! Man, are you licensed for this? I want to see a Medical diploma."

"Damn it, Wally, just hold still. I think I still see more orange..."

"Dick, you may be the _utterly platonic_ love of my life, but trying to take advantage of our brotherhood fealty by asking the impossible...ow!"

"I could have sworn you prided yourself on doing the impossible." Nightwing deftly handled the medical tweezers, eyes on the prize. "Goodness knows I'd have thought it impossible to get partially skewered by carrot sticks. Of course you do have a rather prominent rear target."

"Funny. I'll have you know my rear was a top candidate for The Titans Boyish Buns Calendar. You're all just jealous of me and my extraordinary physique and amazing powers. Ow!"

"What powers? Oh yeah...you're the Fastest Idiot Alive. Next time a rogue decides to blow up a snowman building competition by hiding a bomb in the table of snowman accessories..."

"...get out of the way of the dozens of pointy carrot noses traveling at mach two. I kind of figured that out for myself, thanks, master detective with the deft medical touch of a sadistic Operation player."

"Before or after you ate most of the evidence?" Dick wondered aloud. "I include, by the by, those raisins that ricochet off you and onto Batman's cowl and the one that hit Superman in the eye?" His tweezers worked out the last sliver of carrot remains as his patient let out an indignant yelp. "And that's the last of your veggie backside dish. You can stop whining, now, brave soldier."

"I am not whining and you can't blame a speedster for being hungry after an injury. Besides, Dick, those carrots _owed_ me. The raisins and dates were just in the wrong place at the wrong time," he justified. "Naturally, I took their sweet goodness all into protective custody before Bats could return cruel reciprocation on them like Supes had to go do with charcoal broiling that one abused and need I say innocent fruit. Word to the wise? Burnt raisin tastes nasty."

"So now you admit I'm wise?" Nightwing chuckled as he used his fingers to count of points: "Okay..._you_ were in the wrong place at the wrong time. Batman did not appreciate your picking embedded dehydrated foostuff off of his uniform like a baboon picks off fleas from..." he grimaced at the remembered image "Oh, I am not continuing that thought. Bruce and Clark might be listening in and they are already pissed enough at being called _A natural magnet for dried up prunes_ and _The Wrath of Grapes_."

"You think? Thank god for accelerated healing. I've got Rayner coming over tonight and trying to explain my new nose job would have been awkward."

The former Robin nodded. "Kyle always said that working in sector 2814 was a hell raiser compared to his other gigs. Fortunately, I already knew that and as usual came prepared."

"Bats and Boy Scouts..." Wally grinned. "You can take the Robin out of the cave and green undies, but you can't-"

"Har har. Watch your tongue with me or you won't get...this!" Dick held out the hard-to-attain prize.

"Compulsive talker. Can't be helped-_Oh man...is that a_-?" Wally covetously grabbed for the item.

"Sonic the Hedgehog plaster? Yes. If anyone asks, they were the only thing available at the Quickie Mart and not something I had to search for on Amazon while I was supposed to be patrolling Gotham's east side for a certain cranky and head-cold suffering, and fruit-salad smelling, ex-mentor patrolling on the west side. If I have to explain more than that to Bruce-"

"-Linda and Supes will be finding out just how many pictures of Kara the Fastest Man Alive could snap during the infamous training bra _incident_ and someone will be scraping _my_ spandexed remains from-Kewl-the entire boxed set! Dick, you are the _best_, man!"

"So true even before your wedding."

"Like I'll choose someone else? Dick, Dick, Dick...I mean it. You are the _best_ bestest buddy a speedster can have. I...you are just _awesome_. If I didn't think it would be seen as irredeemably unmanly of me, I'd kiss you."

"If I wasn't freaked out by the mere thought of the hyper cooties I'd get from your kissing me I'd tell you that _appearing_ unmanly was never an issue you needed to consider, what with those dazzling pair of ear ornaments you wear."

"I'm going to ignore the possible insult embedded in your observation and conveniently overlook mentioning that elf costume you happily wore for years as Robin The Boy Wonder [What He Was Thinking Wearing That Getup!] on account as I'm still on a Dude Bonding high. We are both as studly as it comes and you're a true friend for not saying more detrimental things about me while in my presence."

"Ditto. I did had an outstanding role model for what true camaraderie could mean though," Dick mused. "Like sticking around even when times get tough."

"Yeah..." Wally reached out and gave his cohort a bro hug "nothing says true friendship as much as exchanging really cool cartoon plasters."

Dick smiled at him. "_You_ are seriously mental, you know that?"

"Says the guy who browsed the net for an hour searching for video game themed plasters."

"What?" Dick shoved the speedster away from him. "How did you know it took that long?"

"Because I was watching your back during that patrol. Seriously, man, if I hadn't kept hitting the correct links right after you hit the wrong ones, you'd still be stuck searching in the baby food categories." He smirked as his pal groaned and slapped his forehead.

"Why am I your friend again?" a plaintive Dick wondered.

"You think I keep these _dazzling_ ear ornaments just to honor The Flash legacy?" Wally pointed to the radio devices on each side of his head. "Night critters are attracted to shiny objects." His grin widened to a size that would make Joker jealous. "Oh yeah, you've been totally under my hypnotic spell since day one."

No wonder Bruce warned me to stay the hell away from you."

"Yep. Barry totally owned his ass. Ow!" Wally ruefully rubbed the blossoming bruise on his nose. Dahm..naow ah noid anudder pulasther."

"Try searching Amazon." Dick huffed, massaging his own sore knuckles.

-End Flashback-

* * *

"You realize that doing the impossible is my specialty? I can shut up when I want to." Wally informed Kyle. "Well...maybe? In theory."

"Even the Scarlet Speedster has limits, my friend...even the Scarlet Speedster has limits."

The two friends toasted each other.

"To warm friendships, cold sodas, and licensed plasters."

* * *

"I tell you, J'onn, it's gotten out of hand. Yesterday, Booster Gold received a camouflage one. He still thinks it's some sort of secret technology that makes him invisible to the naked eye even though getting beat up by Wonder Girl in the woman's locker room should have set him straight right away."

Aquaman snorted at The Dark Knight's griping. "Or turned him gay."

Superman looked cluelessly at his team mates. "I don't get it."

"They are merely plasters, Batman. Nothing insidious," The Martian Manhunter dismissed Bruce's concern.

Nobody felt inclined to enlighten Clark.

"Nothing... " Batman would have spluttered if he wasn't Batman. "Have you checked _yourself_ over lately?"

"I..."

Superman's eyes dilated as he helpfully switched to first x-ray and then telescopic vision.

"He got you, J'onn," Superman's face lit up with something he would forever continue to deny was glee.

The Martian was not so amused. "That is impossible. I would have been aware..." He stood up to better see for himself.

Aquaman snickered as he _plucked_ a duck off of J'onn. "A Duck Dodgers one."

Superman blinked. "Duck Dodgers? I see the Marvin the Martian one right on his a-"

"The point _is-_" Batman interrupted them, "the _point_ is that the things have become a nuisance. The entire League is starting to sport them and not always on inconspicuous places. The Creeper has nearly covered himself with Animaniacs. The press was adamant that we'd gained a new member and demanded to know his name. I vote we ban all but undecorated plasters for members of the Justice League." He paused, eying each of his teammates with an air of gravitas. "Personally, I think we'd be better set to just vote off _The Flash_ for having started this nonsense in the first place, but I'll settle for the first option...for now."

Meanwhile J'onn blushed as he located his cartoon counterpart. "What is an _Animaniac_ and why does this..._Marvin the Martian_ wear a shoe-shine brush on his hat? Is that a sign of his occupational interests?"

Everyone avoided those questions.

Superman rolled his eyes. "Oh, come now, Batman. It's just Flash's way of showing he cares." He muttered under his breath. "Besides, they do help keep bad germs out of your boo boos until ma can kiss them better."

"Don't give me that, Clark," an irate Batman snarled back at the Man of Steel. "You realize that's another reason to ban the things. Everyone knows that you've been faking injuries in order to gain more Strawberry Shortcake tatoos. People are beginning to wonder just how _invulnerable_ you truly are."

"Plasters...they are _plasters_. Not tattoos," Superman pouted. His adopted mother didn't abide tattoos and would give him what for if he even thought giving himself one. Licensed plasters were a good alternative to permanent body decor...at least apparently to anyone besides Batman who could not leave well enough alone.

"On _you_ a band-aid by any name can safely be considered purely ornamental."

"Ma Kent thinks they are cute," Superman defended. "She uses the pictures for needlepoint patterns." She'd gotten a tad bored doing only Kal-El family logos on blue and red fabric and Superman was happy to help out; though he'd drawn the line on her practicing different styles on his cape.

Batman glared. "_Cute?_ One showed up on the Blue Beetle...of _Spiderman_."

"So?"

"_Think_ about it, Clark. Beetle...Spider. He's convinced it's a _death_ threat."

Superman sighed. "Let's give it a bit more time."

Aquaman quickly concurred. "I say a week."

"A _week?_" Batman glanced between the two.

Superman confessed, "I promised ma I'd try to get the one of Strawberry gardening." (She'd been hinting about experimenting doing a Popeye on his suit. It was a matter of self-preservation.)

"I haven't had a chance to gain one of Sponge Bob Square Pants's Gary the pet gastropoda yet," Aquaman admitted. "However, the Black Manta has agreed to stage a mock battle with me if I can finagle him a proper Darth Vader. The last such plaster was not waterproof."

J'onn folded his hands (which now sported a Marvin sticker stuck to his thumb) and rejoined the conversation. "You should be aware that Flash and Nightwing have inadvertently started another of your human _trends _what with the media finding out about their recent purchasing predilections. Decorative plaster sales have _hit the roof _as they say_-_since so many heroes have been sighted sporting them of late. Trading in them has become a craze in school yards and playgrounds everywhere. To stop The Flash's mother-hen tendencies now may well send the local economies of whole nations into a tail spin." He paused, staring cryptically at Marvin's portrait. "Are there other such plasters that have to do with Mars?"

Batman breathed something along the lines of _'leave it to Wally to single-handily destroy civilization as we know it._

_"_Where is Flash anyway?" Superman wondered. "He should have been here by now."

Aquaman shrugged. "Last I saw of him he was in the cafeteria polishing his head ornaments. Said something about how he was _'probably going to need all the hypnotic power he could get for this one'._...or something similar."

The King of the Seven Seas blinked as the Dark Knight abruptly got up, reached into a belt pouch, and left the room. "I realize that the ways of surface dwellers are sometimes beyond my ken, but why would Batman suddenly don sunglasses while indoors?"

"It's part of the Flash Legacy Hypnotic Effect," Clark sighed. "J'onn, better inform the doctors to break out the plasters."

"I'll tell them to use the Batman licensed ones."

Superman did a double take at his fellow alien's smirking countenance. "Since when did you start doing evil things?"

J'onn shrugged as he protectively covered his Martian plaster. "I don't know. Something just came over me." He smiled innocently at the others, thumb stroking his new obsession.


	2. Nude Plasters

**A/N: I don't anything recognizable. (damn...I didn't get away with it.) Okay, I don't OWN anything recognizable. Happy? ;P  
**

* * *

"But...?"

Despite his public reputation as a brave superhero, when it came to inter-League squabbles between Founders Clark really just wanted to run and hide. Problem was that with these particular team mates that tactic wasn't feasible: Flash could outpace anyone and Batman would probably track him down even within the core of a yellow sun.

"He's really upset, Wally."

_Understatement. Pissed would be more accurate, but Superman was supposed to be above the use of modern curse words. At least in those decibels human ears could hear. Gracious....like it was possible not to pick things up with the likes of Wally, Shayera, and Ollie in the League._

"Aw _c'mon_, Supes!" the scarlet speedster whined in such a high pitch that Superman was almost positive it had been aided by the man's vibrational ability just to cause him a headache. "If this is about that mix-up with the Underdog(R) 3/4" strip, well, I had lined that one up for Krypto, but I swear he sort of cel-lined in from nowhere as the Simon Bar Sinister one kind of also worked loose from the box and into my slipstream; the next thing you know Batz was rendering the category "ouchless" meaningless by--"

Superman held up his hands to stop the repeated explanation for that little...adventure; not to mention to ward against the increasingly rapid hand gesticulations Flash was making that were threatening to alternatively curl and uncurl his trademark bangs. "Sorry, Wally, but as of right now, only 'nude' plasters are allowed on the Watchtower or while on missions. Those were his very words: _Only nude plasters, Clark, or else._" Batman was pretty insistent and...well...he does pay for the Battle Bots repair and grocery bills." (Superman made sure to mention the two financial aspects of daily Watchtower life that Wally was most likely to care about in the hopes that they would sober the man up to reality.)

_Sheesh, it isn't like I was any happier about this. Ma is already harping at me for more needlepoint patterns. Is it my fault Wally seems to know where to obtain the best variety of rare licensed plasters and refuses to share his sources?_

Even when faced with the truth on not only what side his bread was buttered on (not to mention who purchased it), Flash still refused to let this go without a fight. If anything, his voice level rose while his hand gestures got more animated. Clark winced, forced to move his aching head just in time to avoid getting a speed-enhanced, karate-chop hair cut.

"But nude ones are boring! Dang--I bet it's all that armor in his cowl...the weight is always pressing on his brain. Batz's finally gone insane! The League isn't some sort of affiliate of the Bat Clan! He can't just arbitrarily decide _Blah-dom_ shall reign for all of us! Next thing you know he'll be insisting we all wear bat symbols on black unitards and don funeral home faces. _You_ know it will happen! _I_ know...I....hmm..."

_Uh oh. Wally had that look in his green eyes. The one that his friends had come to agree signaled the first sign of the End Times._

Superman did his best to look menacing. If he didn't nip this in the bud straight away...

"Wally, _don't_. Whatever it is..._don't_." He even let his eyes go red. Just a little. He could always blame the oncoming migraine.

Utterly unfazed by the threat, Flash blurred out to return a microsecond later. "Here." He handed Superman a small bottle. Clark sighed at the infinitesimal writing that was standard pharmaceutical script and brought out his Clark Kent bifocals. (Drug companies were owned by Lex, that was the only explanation as to why they seemed determined to thwart even a Kryptonian's ability to read their labels without ocular assistance.) He adjusted his eyeglasses in order to read the tiny, tiny print.

"For eye irritation...get the red out?

"I haven't done a thing, Big Blow..._Blue_." Wally smiled innocently at him as if he hadn't been about to call him something else. Anyway, Clark missed the slip as something far more alarming had caught his attention.

_Great Caesar's Ghost---now the young deviant is bouncing on his toes: the second sign of the coming apocalypse. Don't panic. I can still avert this. Maybe some humor?_

"Not yet, but with you _'not yet'_ doesn't count for much and I can see the little wooden cogs in your head whirling away."

"Then turn off the x-ray vision." Wally absently waved away Kent's remark with his hand...this time succeeding in giving Superman a less distinct hairdo.

"Wally..." Clark held the little severed black curl in the palm of his hand like it was a broken heirloom.

"Sorry. Here."

A bottle of Super Glue appeared in The Man of Steel's other hand. Clark glared, but, Wally was already mentally deep into some plot that would likely make a certain Batman rogue jealous that he hadn't thought of such lunacy first. In fact...damn...his grin was starting to match that clown's in size.

_Wally West version of the Joker smile: third sign of the coming apocalypse! It was too late. They were doomed._

"Flash....oh, never mind. Not like anyone else around here ever listens to me. Just...let me have a head start with donning my Kryptonian armored underwear before you start something I'll regret."

"Aw, you won't regret anything, Supes." Wally gave Clark a knowing wink and a hearty thump on the chest--which the speedster instantly regretted as it stung like hell. "Especially the next time you get a _ding_ in your Steel hood. Let's just say that I may be on the track of some vintage Betty Boop plasters?" _(After I find a wrist splint.)_

Clark sweat dropped.

"You can thank me by keeping me safely out of the loop. I know _nothing_. I see _nothing_. I hear _nothing_." Superman walked away, shaking his head at his inability to remain unbent against the Sultan of Speed's machinations. It was a danged good thing the life insurance people weren't privy to such inner-League fiascoes or his premiums would rise precipitously. Doomsday they could overlook, but abetting a Flash scheme would make him fall into the 'too high a risk' bracket.

_Shoot. Might as well change my title to The Man Of Aluminum._

* * *

Clark grinned as he spotted something on the table he wanted. It wasn't cheating really, to be using his powers to check out the others assets. _I spy with my x-ray eye an..._ but then his peripheral vision spotted incoming. "Omega Alert!"

"Oh, Jeez."

"Hera.."

"Kryzcxx."

Hands hurriedly scooped up small items, shoved them back into their respective boxes, found impromptu hiding places---

Batman stalked swiftly into the conference room, a scowl on his face that would have given Ol' Scratch himself pause. As it was, the meta league members shifted uncomfortably in their seats, trying not to look guilty. Clark couldn't blame them, but there was nothing to do about it until Bruce left.

Batman speared each one of them with his glare.

_The Boy Scout, The Princess, The Traitor, The Martian, The Green Neophyte Nightlite..._

His scowl deepened upon seeing that the lightning-horned Red Devil was conspicuously absent from his cabal of contraband cohorts.

"Where. Is. He?" Batman grit out each word of his... (Superman decided to be politic and call it a request for info rather than what it really was.)

"Now, Bruce, calm down. It isn't like I had any intention of passing them along to Perry or--heaven forbid--_Lois;_ and really, you should calm down before you have an aneurysm--_YOW!"_

The others looked on in horror as the Dark Knight held up a sliver of green kryptonite in one hand. In the other was the not-quite-nude bandage he'd ripped off Superman's wrist. On it's plastic surface _'Care Bear I.O.U'_ had been sloppily written down courtesy of permanent black ink.

"Just tell me where he is _and nobody else will get hurt_." Unconsciously protecting their own I.O.U.'s the other league members wordlessly pointed downwards to the Watchtower's lower levels. Still scowling, Batman stalked to the cafeteria.

Clark sighed in relief as the door closed. "And that brings us to the last items on the agenda...." He brought out the somewhat squashed boxes that had suffered from the weight of his Buns of Steel, watching as Shayera shook out her unboxed assortment from where they'd been hidden amidst her feathers, J'onn reached into his handy hidey-hole of a body, Kyle was pulling boxes from his invisible lantern battery, while Diana was...well, never mind where she'd kept her booby...er.._booty_ bounty. "As you've probably heard by now, I'm still in the market for an Underdog and am willing to trade Wonder Woman for it--which according to Flash's latest tabulations is currently the hottest commodity around." He blushed as Diana's eyebrows went skyward then reversed direction. "Uh...not _you_, Diana. Naturally, I'm alluding to the black market strippable latex Wonder Woman...." Diana's eyes narrowed further, bracelets clanking together as she crossed muscle-laden arms over her chest.

_"Strippable?"_

Clark sweat dropped for the second time that day even though he could have sworn the temperature in the room had plummeted by tens of degrees. "Um... After that...voting will be on funeral details for The Flash and possibly my own."

Meanwhile, Kyle Rayner---The Green Lantern on loan to sector 2814 until Stewart got back from his vacation (smart man!)---had used his power ring to image up a cell phone and was hurriedly making a call. "Flash, you'd better run for your life unless you want those ear ornaments decorating an entirely different orifice! One guess who is on his way down there right now and he's wearing The Grimace O' Doom."

_"Well, we did warn him back at the beginning that his face might get stuck that way," the voice of Wally crackled back from the conjured device. "Hold on a sec. Yo--imminent Bat Bust, people! Hide the wares! No, Vixen...I won't trade you my Horton Hears A Who or Madagascar Penguins for Shere Kahn. I'm only in the market for the extra large ones anyway. Try Ice or Beatriz once the coast is clear. Okay, go ahead, Kyle."_

"Man, no amount of XXL plasters are going to help you this time and my oath doesn't say anything about my having to stop _every_ evil that falls within my sight. Otherwise I would have had to take you into custody for dealing in illegal contraband and assorted misdemeanors a long time ago." He paused. "Hey, you want me to do that? You might be safe enough in an Oan jail, but I can't make guarantees considering who's after your carcass."

_"Pfft--How illegal can it be when Batz is the only one not in on our black market?" The voice paused before speculatively adding "In fact, can it be a black market when everyone but one is in on it? Anyway, this is a mission of mercy: the desperately needy like yours truly obtaining necessary medical supplies. It's not as if you ever actually paid me back those Millennium Falcon plasters, you irresponsible coward---eh,helloBatz."_

Kyle dissipated the phone so he wouldn't have to hear the coming screams of agony.

* * *

"You are dead." Batman threw down several beta-version major magazine cover pages so that their lurid splash titles faced up. All featured a dark figure with a cape:

_The Wayne Street Journal__: Naked Knight? Batman Champions Public Nudity?_

_Arkham Astronomy: Watching the skies may have become more interesting..._

_Super Stars! *Nudes Week*: Is Batman a Nudist?_

_The Gotham Gossiper: Batman Bared! Batman to throw in the Cape & Cowl to go au-Naturel?_

Flash zipped around in constant vibratory motion in order to thwart Bruce's attempt at a strangle hold.

"Oh hey--those came out pretty good considering the lack of publicity stills what with your being so danged camera shy." He tapped one cover. "I particularly like this one with the Bat Signal placed over the nudist colony sign. Glad they took my suggestion." He again avoided a swipe of Batman's gauntlets.

"Fortunately, Bruce Wayne holds controlling shares in these publications and Oracle alerted me to this travesty before they went to actual print..." a frustrated Dark Knight growled at him.

The red-clad man tsked. "Whatever happened to Freedom of the Press?"

"She also said that one Scarlet Speedster leaked the story to the magazine editors in exchange for several orders of Mucho Mac cheese burgers, fries, lattes, and chocos... You've blotted my reputation in exchange for junk food."

"I believe in the barter system," Wally grinned back rather cheekily.

"It's _slander_, you idiot!" Bruce snapped at him. "Slander is a criminal offense!"

Wally's grin brightened. "Afraid not. I did some checking first. S'not slander. _Plasters."_

"What?" Batman grit his teeth. He should have expected a nonsensical reply from such a twisted mind.

"You told everyone they had to stop using the cool sticking plasters. You know..." Wally made little quote marks with his fingers "_Band-Aids? Curads?_ Those brand names strike a bell?"

_Definitely twisted. Like the pretzels he'd been sold down the river for._

"Need I guess that this explains why so many of our boxed medical bandages are suddenly sporting tiny doll clothes?"

"Fortunately, Barbie's little sister has an extensive wardrobe collection and the mega set was on clearance at Big Box. Just a temporary measure. You know...so we don't get sued in the meantime..."

"Flash--" _One hand around his neck and five seconds is all I require. One hand..._

"...seeing as appearing nude in public is against public decency laws, Batz!" Wally finished with faked exasperation. "Just think what the moral people of the world would say to your little decree of enforced nakedness. Shame, Batz..._shame, shame, shame, shame shame_."

Batman stared at him; Flash folded his arms.

"Just because you're yearning for a peek at my sleek bod is no excuse to lose my moral standards," Wally sniffed. "I refuse to tramp around 'nude' before your or anyone else's leering eyes, you perverted P.I."

"How about in a tuxedo and a wooden box?" Batman snarled.

"Ah, ah, ah!" Wally waggled a finger at him. "My death or a continuation of the ban on licensed plasters will result in those covers being published and distributed for real. Oracle will see to that."

"Oracle wor--" Batman started to say 'works for him,' but Wally interrupted.

"_Worships_ Tomb Raider. Major fan. She's not happy with the ban either seeing as they are about to start marketing the plasters for it. See, yours truly---being the fastest man alive---has made nicety with the Taiwan CEO and got an advanced shipment for her." He leaned back in satisfaction. "Yep, I may not have the quickest of wits, scary scowl, or techie gadgets, but I've got fast feet, a winning smile and a killer backside--and am not afraid to use them to gain the advantage. Face it, Batz...I won. End The Plaster Persecution and all unsavory magazine covers will cease to exist. Continue and we move beyond magazines into talk radio and late night tv shows."

Batman and The Flash stared at each other.

"Okay."

Wally blinked, his jaw dropping just a tad. "_Okay?_ You mean...that's it? No sneaky, back-handed maneuvering to get the better of me?"

"No."

"No punch to the nose? No Wham! Bam! Ka-Powee! Bat-slam?"

"Like you said, you won."

"But..." Wally slumped down into his chair, looking like he'd lost his best friend. "Can't you beat me up just _a little_ first? A couple of shiners...maybe a split lip?"

Bruce frowned from behind his mask. "You want me to hurt you...oh." The reason hit him like a blow from Clayface. "Plasters."

Wally nodded eagerly, pulling out a small, dog-eared pamphlet. "According to The Collector's Adhesive Bandage Scoring Handbook, a male getting tossed around by Batman earns the second most sympathy freebies."

Batman had to admit if only to himself that he was curious.

"And the first is?"

Wally flipped back a page.

"Getting k-o'd in the nut basket by Wonder Woman or Power Girl. Bonus if by both."

Both men winced.

"Who?" Bruce couldn't help but ask.

"Booster Gold is the current world record holder. He still hasn't learned the truth about 'camouflaged' yet, the poor slob."

"I thought I had heard soprano moaning in the intensive care section."

"Oh yeah. Talk about a return to childhood."

* * *

Wally's grin looked a bit crooked what with the fat lip---and the dark purple of his left eye clashed with the bright red of his suit, but over all there was a happy gleam in the green eyes. If band-aids were bank notes he'd be in the Fortune 500's list of successful businessmen. Of course, he was going to have to pay a percentage and Catwoman plasters were not that commonplace. Still, from where his bandaged bum was sequestered, he was sitting pretty.

The door to his room banged open.

"Wallace West! What's this about your advocating research into _adult_ Wonder Woman bandages?" Diana seethed. Behind her, Kara was bunching her fists. "C-Thru Uniforms When Wet?" the blonde powerhouse growled.

Wally gulped. Forget the Fortune 500...he was about to become _The Richest Man Ever_.

Posthumous.


End file.
